


Pulse of Colour

by skamsnake



Series: Elu Drabbles [4]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff & fingering, M/M, Missing Scene, Shower Sex, Smut, cause i’m that bitch, first time rimming, piano lingo used to describe ass eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 01:38:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18326081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamsnake/pseuds/skamsnake
Summary: “How is there still so much paint?!” Lucas says, gazing down at himself in disbelief as he steps into the shower hesitantly, the water still running a little on the cold side, “It’severywhere!”“We were really..thorough” Eliott chuckles, coming up from behind to join him under the stream of lukewarm water and suddenly everything feels burning hot.





	Pulse of Colour

**Author's Note:**

> So... this lil after-the-mural-mess shower scene has been sitting in my drafts for a while because apparently I have to write first time rimming in every remake?? lol
> 
> Title is from Virginia Woolf’s beautiful ‘To The Lighthouse’ because apparently I also have no manners. 
> 
> Piano lingo glossary in end notes *rolls eyes hard at self* 
> 
> Please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed, they truly make my day jtm <3

 

***

_First, the pulse of colour flooded the bay with blue, and the heart expanded with it and the body swam, only the next instant to be checked and chilled by the prickly blackness on the ruffled waves. Then, up behind the great black rock, almost every evening spurted irregularly, so that one had to watch for it and it was a delight when it came, a fountain of white water; and then, while one waited for that, one watched, on the pale semicircular beach, wave after wave shedding again and again smoothly, a film of mother of pearl._

\- Virginia Woolf

***

 

“How is there still so much paint?!” Lucas says, gazing down at himself in disbelief as he steps into the shower hesitantly, the water still running a little on the cold side, “It’s _everywhere!_ ”

“We were really.. _thorough_ ” Eliott chuckles, coming up from behind to join him under the stream of lukewarm water and suddenly everything feels burning hot.

They’d spent the better part of an hour and most of the school’s paper towels cleaning up themselves just enough to be able to leave without attracting too much attention. They even managed to sneak into the apartment and head straight to the bathroom without getting caught.

Still, there’s no way they’ll be able to wash away every single trace of their Jackson Pollock-inspired evening together with one shower alone. Not that Lucas wants to anyway.

In fact, he would probably keep it on forever if he could. To savor the memory of Eliott on his skin, the spark in his eye and swirl of his brush as he painted Lucas’ nose a dark green. The playful laughter from his mouth as they covered each other and most of the floor in bright blues and vivid reds, smeared and merged like their bodies, the taste of chalk paint and pure lust chasing his lips when Lucas finally pulled him in for the kiss he’d been wanting so desperately ever since Eliott stepped through the door. A kiss he’d been wanting desperately for _weeks_. The feeling of Eliott’s hands, his arms, his _thighs_ , as he held Lucas close, against his chest, his heart, _up against the wall_ , the slight frown across his forehead, the fluttering of his lashes, the stuttering of his breath as he came in Lucas' hand, where it was wrapped around the both of them.

Lucas doesn’t want to wash any of it away, but he also needs Eliott in his bed _now_ and as long as that thing also serves as a couch for the rest of the apartment’s residents, Lucas isn’t one to try his luck with yet another stain he can’t quite explain.

The warm water feels soothing on his skin, soaking up the dried patches of paint on his face, his chest and arms, the water dripping down his body and twirling round his toes towards the drain like little rainbows rushing to each their pot of gold.

His own pot of gold now pressed up against his back in a warm embrace, and there’s nothing more soothing than Eliott’s wet lips soft on his shoulder, his hands coming round Lucas’ sides to pull him in closer.

“You really are a piece of art” Eliott murmurs into his skin, “No wonder I want to draw you all the time” he says, and Lucas can’t help but laugh.

“And _you_ really are a dork” Lucas speaks over his shoulder “No wonder I want to roll my eyes all the time” he teases, earning himself merciless tickling in return.

Lucas wants to tease him more, wants to coax more of that cute laugh out of him, but there’s something about the way Eliott’s fingers linger on him, something about the way they press into his skin with intent, something that lightens up every single nerve ending in his entire body and leaves him speechless. _Breathless_.

“Let me take care of you, baby”

Eliott’s words barely above a whisper, and Lucas can’t quite tell if it’s a plea or a promise, he just knows he wants nothing else.

“Mmhm” he murmurs and Eliott pulls back for a moment to pick up the body wash, a sweet smell of peach and patchouli filling the air around them. Squeezing a generous amount out into his hand, Eliott starts massaging the soap into Lucas’ skin, tracing slowly up his back and over his shoulders, down along his arms until he find Lucas’ hands, their fingers lacing together and his thumbs massaging into the palm of Lucas’ hands.

“I can’t believe you’re here” Lucas whispers, maybe more to himself than anything else, not sure if Eliott can even hear it over the loud thrumming of water on tile, not until he hears Eliott speak with such certainty, it almost brings tears to his eyes.

“I’m here.”

They stand like this for a while, fingers and arms and breaths intertwined, until Lucas starts to feel a need for more. More touch, more frantic kissing, more _friction_. More Eliott. He brings his own hands up to the pastel green tile wall in front of him, Eliott’s now clean hands still covering his own.

“I thought you were going to take care of me?” he teases and Eliott chuckles and slaps his right cheek in response, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck.

Lucas kinda wants to whisper _again_ but he doesn't dare to, so instead he bites his lip and stays like that, leaning against the wall as Eliott’s hands trace along his arms, over his shoulders and down his back to his waist, a firm grip on his hips and his thumbs massaging into his skin there, slowly easing out the tension that's been building there from facing his fears every day for weeks.

“I missed you so much” Eliott whispers into his hair and Lucas sighs and leans back into those words, head resting on Eliott’s shoulder, feeling lips trace up his exposed neck to his jaw until they finally meet his own in a kiss so full of longing Lucas can barely keep himself upright. Can barely think. Barely _breathe_ with how much he wants this. How much he _needs_ this.

So instead, he focuses on Eliott’s fingers. Fingers he couldn’t take his eyes off from the moment he first saw them, tapping at Eliott’s own lips the first time they spoke. Fingers he’s held between his own in the rain in what feels like a lifetime ago. Fingers he’s imagined on his body so many times he can no longer really tell reality from fantasy, almost wants to pinch himself to make sure this  is even real, that Eliott’s fingers _are_ in fact tracing slowly down the front of his thighs right this very minute. Up the back of his thighs in the next.

A quiet moan escapes Lucas’ mouth when he feels Eliott’s hands reach his cheeks, squeezing gently, and he can’t help but spread his legs slightly in anticipation. Eliott’s cupping his cheeks, massaging gently, when Lucas feels the slide of a thumb in between them and he shudders at the touch, making Eliott still and pull back a little.

“Sorry, I.. I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t… stop” Lucas whispers, even surprising himself with this new level of bravery but Eliott doesn't move, almost like he isn’t sure Lucas really means it. So Lucas arches his back a bit more and pushes his ass up against Eliott where one hand is still resting on his cheek.

Eliott still seems hesitant, so with this new found confidence Lucas turns his head to lock eyes with him, hoping his eyes will say all the words he can’t seem to make his mouth speak right now. Hoping they'll tell him how much Lucas wants this too, how much he wants Eliott, the tantalizing sensation of little droplets of water trickling down over his eyelids and his lips magnified in this moment of complete honesty between them.

“Please don’t stop” he manages, feeling a little more confidence even if blood is still rushing in his ears and his heart still pounding in his chest.

Eliott surges forward in response and catches Lucas’ lips with his own, sucking his lower one into his mouth and biting at it hungrily. Finally his hands start moving again, slowly circling down over the round of Lucas’ cheeks and up over the cleft of his ass, and Lucas is thankful the water drowns out the little whimper he feels escape from the back of his throat when he feels a finger gently ease in between his cheeks, finding the puckered skin there and stroking carefully over it in circles almost like he’s caressing it.

“Is it okay if… Could- I mean, can I… can I kiss you _here?_ ” Eliott asks, a small stutter in his voice, and Lucas can’t help but smile at how sweet it is, _how hot it is._

“Yeah- yes.. I’d like that” he bites his lip and nods, and Eliott kisses him passionately, his tongue licking into Lucas’ mouth with such hunger it feels like he’s _claiming_ him, like they’re claiming _each other._

He starts to travel down, placing little kisses and licks down Lucas’ neck and along his spine almost like he’s mapping out the road back to Lucas’ lips. He doesn’t stop until he’s on his knees behind Lucas, holding his hips in a soft but strong grip, gently encouraging Lucas to push back a bit, spread his legs a little more and Lucas can feel the water thrumming on the small of his back, his ass now clear of the stream and only a few single drops trickling down over his cheeks as he arches his back even more.

Eliott’s hands are back on his cheeks again, firm and warm as they trace slowly over his skin in what feels like perfect symmetry, the cleft of Lucas’ ass serving as the vertical line over which they mirror each other, in one moment feeling the full length of Eliott’s index fingers flush against each other right over it, in the next his thick thumbs searching downwards together along his taint and then he feels it. The gentle pull as Eliott’s hands spread his cheeks slightly, a few drops of water trickling down between them and Lucas moans with the sensation, almost falling over and it feels like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.

Eliott keeps him waiting still, and Lucas briefly wonders if there might be paint there. If that’s the reason why Eliott is hesitating behind him. He turns his head slightly to be able to look back down over his shoulder, seeing Eliott sitting back on his heels, _staring_ at him with darkened eyes. He’s staring at him _there_ and it makes Lucas feel proud and a little shy but also completely safe and so _goddamn_ _horny_.

“God you’re so beautiful, Lucas” Eliott breathes out and just like that, what little was left of Lucas’ insecurities is washed away like the dry paint on his skin.

Eliott looks up, as if to check in with Lucas one final time before he leans in and kisses the inside of his left cheek, sending little jolts of electricity up Lucas’ spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Eliott nuzzles further into his skin and places another kiss only inches from the first one and Lucas’ eyes roll back in pleasure, his head dropping back, his chest already heaving with how much he _feels_ right now.

When Eliott finally parts his lips, his tongue peeking out to lick tentatively across his hole, it feels like Lucas’ body momentarily separates from his brain, like suddenly it has a mind of it’s own, completely consumed  by the sensations it’s experiencing, the pleasure it’s receiving. Somewhere in the back of his mind Lucas registers the way his thighs tense up and the way his fingers scramble for purchase at the tile, but it feels like he has no control over it. As if there's no way he could stop how his mouth falls open or the inexplicable sounds he hears falling from it, even if he wanted to.

It feels _so_ good. The soft twirl of Elliot’s tongue as he starts lapping at him, the fullness of his lips when he presses in closer, gently sucking on his rim. Lucas is trembling with every new movement of Eliott’s mouth, feeling his body and mind finally opening up to the love given to it without fear, without shame.

And the _sounds_ Eliott is making, the soft hums, the wet sloppy licks and sucking, the _slurping god,_ it’s like he’s practically drinking Lucas up _,_ and Lucas wants him to have it all. To _take_ it all. The sounds mix with Lucas’ own heavy panting, the little _uhs_ and _ahs,_ a low _putain!_ groaned through gritted teeth as the tip of Eliott’s pointed tongue, prodding against the tight muscle there, finally slips inside. To anyone outside their own little bubble it all probably sounds obscene, but it’s like music to Lucas’ ears. Like a yet-to-be written piano piece, an étude of sorts, pulse steady like a métronome, _somewhere between andante and allegretto,_ occassionally increasing in intensity like a crescendo. He feels like an expensive instrument played by a musical prodigy, and Lucas could listen to this _forever_.

Except, he’s also harder than he’s ever been in his life, and he most definitely _cannot_ do this forever.

“Fuck you taste so good, baby” Eliott moans into his ass and Lucas has to bite his hand hard to not come right there and then.

He kinda wants to reach back, twist his fingers in Eliott’s hair and pull his face flush against his ass, _closer_ , but he can’t quite bring himself to do that yet, so instead he just arches his back a bit more, lets his hips move in whatever way comes natural, finding a nice steady rhythm rocking back and forth, that makes him moan louder and feel Eliott deeper with every thrust back on his tongue, and it’s all simultaneously too much and not nearly enough.

When one of Eliott’s beautiful fingers joins his tongue there, easily slipping past the smooth muscle, searching and finding what his tongue can’t, Lucas feels his breath hitch in his throat and his toes curl involuntarily under him, feels the urgent need for relief like rapid pressure building in a shaken soda and he presses his face and chest up against the wall, the cold tile cooling him off for a hot second so as to not _fucking explode_ , but also conveniently freeing his hands, twitching with a desperate need for touch.

Instantly, they surge down towards his aching cock, wrapping both around it and tightening his grip to create a tunnel to fuck into, the rocking motion of his body quickening as Eliott’s free hand takes a firm hold of his hip, pulling him back onto his tongue and finger whenever Lucas thrusts forward into his own hands and he’s _so_ close now, _so close,_ his balls drawn up tight, his eyes squeezed shut, his breath stuttering and his knees almost giving out under him and it feels like he’s about to burst with every bright colour in the universe, when suddenly he feels a shiver run down his spine, and _not_ the good kind.

Not the kind he feels whenever Eliott looks at him like _that_ or the kind he felt the first time he tasted Eliott’s cock, the sweet salty taste of precum coating his tongue. Not the kind he felt when Eliott stepped through the door in _Le Foyer_ or the kind he felt just moments ago when Eliott’s tongue finally breached him for the first time.

No, it’s the kind of shiver that feels almost painful, like an electric shock, confusion ripping through him like a whiplash and a moment passes until he realises the water has turned completely cold on them. _Traitor._

“ _Fuck fuck fuck!_ ” he shouts, fingers frantically searching for the shower handle, feet rushing and nearly slipping in the small space of the shower, finding no shelter from the cold stream, almost knocking over Eliott behind him trying to get up from where the icy water quickly pools around his knees.

They tumble out of the shower, giggling, and kissing and dripping little drops of rainbow all over the floor as they make their way to Lucas’ makeshift bedroom, laughing and hugging and falling into bed, _well_ _couch_ , but right now Lucas can’t for _the life of him_ bring himself to care about roommates or sounds or colorful stains.

“Please stay” he whispers when their lips finally part for a moment to breathe, not fully realizing the weight of those words until they’ve slipped out, until Eliott pulls him in close and whispers back.

“I’m staying here.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> étude: (French for ‘study’) a short musical composition of considerable difficulty designed to provide practice or perfecting a particular skill 😏  
> andante: moderately slow tempo  
> allegretto: moderately fast tempo  
> crescendo: gradual increase in loudness/intensity
> 
>  
> 
> I’m skamsnake on tumblr, come play! 🐍🖤


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